Page 27 of The Uncompromising Marquess
Remembering Helena's words, Florence shook her head. “I will not take on responsibility that is not mine to bear. You may wish to shame me for the exclamation that I could not help but let out, but I will not carry it. I am proud of the improvements I have made. I am proud that I have been able to stand up in society and even dance with gentlemen without any great upset.” Quite sure that her mother would instantly respond with how she had hurried away from the Marquess during their waltz, Florence continued to speak. “If a mistake is mine, then I shall certainly own it, but in this, I quite refuse to accept responsibility.” Seeing just how flushed her mother had become, Florence chose to step away from her entirely. The shame had receded, and her anger had returned. How long had she endured her mother's harsh criticisms? How often had she begged for her mother to understand, only to be dismissed? Nothing her mother had done had guided her on the right path. If Lady Grangemouth had her way, Florence would have been engaged to either a rogue or a man old enough to be her father!
“Florence, come back here at once.”
Casting a glance over her shoulder, Florence shook her head as her mother beckoned to her. Her only intention at present was to find Helena again and to stay as far away from her mother as she could, regardless of the consequences.
“Florence!”
Ignoring this, Florence continued on. She did not rush. She did not begin to hurry her steps. Rather, she made her wayslowly through the crowd, knowing that her mother would not break into a run to find her.
“Florence!”
This time, the exclamation was met with a sudden shove. Something or someone pushed into her back, and Florence went stumbling forward. Arms outstretched, she knocked into one person and then the next before, much to her horror, falling directly into the servant who was carrying one side of the cake. She herself managed to keep her footing, but the cake was another matter. The servant fell, and the cake went with him. It scattered itself across the ballroom floor as gasps of horror and exclamations of shock echoed around the room.
Florence did not know what to do. She stood staring at the cake, at the mess that she had created. Tears threatened, but she steeled herself and turned away from the mess. Weaving her way through the crowd, Florence hurried towards the door, desperate now to leave Lord Applegate's townhouse and find her refuge in the carriage home.
“Whatever happened?” she heard someone say, her face burning with shame. “Who did such a ridiculous thing?”
Quite sure that her name would soon be spread around the ballroom as being the one responsible, Florence ducked her head. No matter what it was, she felt for Lord Applegate, there could be no reprieve for this. She had ruined his evening. The ball was now a complete disaster, and it was all her own fault. She should not have run from her mother. Yes, frustration had burned at her, but could she not have tolerated it? Had she only lingered and allowed her mother's words to wash over her, then she would not have been stepping away from her company, and none of this would have happened. Exactly who it was that had knocked into her so she fell into the cake, Florence did not know, but all the same, the blame would be set at her feet. Therewas nothing left for her here. She had ruined the Marquess’ Christmas ball and no doubt, her own Christmas season.
Perhaps it was time to return home for good.
13
Joseph could only stare at the mess before him. He had spent many an hour, many a day in fact, preparing for this incredible ball, but now the focus of the evening lay in pieces on the floor. Exactly what had happened, he did not know. There had been some sort of commotion, and the servants had fallen as the cake dropped from their hands. Now there were so many exclaiming over it that he felt himself embarrassed, as if somehow he was responsible for what had happened.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you might make your way to the other side of the ballroom whilst my servants clear this cake from the floor.” With a thin smile, he directed them away from the ruined cake. “The dancing will begin again very soon.”
To his relief, his servants – all of whom were on hand at once – came to clean the floor in preparation for the dancing. There would be no excitement as the guests cut the cake. There would be no presentation of the crown to whichever fortunate lady or gentleman found the single bean that was contained within. He had intended to make this the most marvelous Christmas ball that had ever been. Instead, he feared he would now be the laughingstock of London. Many of the guests would speak aboutwhat had taken place, and whilst he was not responsible, they would still speak purely about the ball itself. That was not at all what he had expected, nor what he had wanted.
“Brother.” Emily was beside him in a few moments, her husband next to her. “Whatever happened?”
“You will have to dismiss your servants!” Lord Lanark looked around and tutted loudly. “That is a simple task and they – ”
“It was not my servant's fault.” His brow furrowed, and Joseph looked around the room, as if he might find the culprit somewhere nearby, ready and willing to admit that they had caused the accident. “There was some dreadful commotion, and the cake fell to the floor. I do not know who caused it or what happened precisely, but it was certainly not my servants doing.”
Before the conversation could continue, two ladies drew towards them all. One was wringing her hands whilst the other had a gleam in her eye that Joseph did not much like. Lady Abernyte, he realized. No doubt she was here to try and get as much gossip as possible.
“A dreadful thing to have happened, Lord Applegate.” The First Lady bobbed a quick curtsy, but Joseph could not recall her title. “A terrible thing indeed. I was very much looking forward to the game with the cake. I should have liked to have been queen for the evening.”
“Do be quiet, Lady Venables. I am quite sure that Lord Applegate does not need to hear such nonsense from you, especially when he will be deeply upset about the cake.” Lady Abernyte spoke without restraint, and Joseph's eyebrows lifted. Lady Venables shrank back as if she had been slapped, her eyes lowering to the floor as her shoulders rounded. This did not seem to trouble Lady Abernyte, for she only sniffed and then returned her gaze to Joseph. “The cake. What happened?”
Joseph blinked. “I am not yet certain, Lady Abernyte.”And even when I do discover it, I have no intention of informingyou.He did not say this aloud, however, keeping such thoughts entirely to himself. Lady Abernyte was much too cruel for his liking, and he had no thought of telling her anything.
“I heard that it was Lady Florence’s doing.” Lady Abernyte cast a suspicious glance over him as Joseph stiffened. “It would not surprise me if that was true, however. She is a creature entirely disinclined towards poise and elegance. Her mother must endure a great deal. I confess, I do feel a little sorry for her… Lady Grangemouth, that is, not Lady Florence.”
“We do not know for certain whether it was Lady Florence or not.” To Joseph surprise, it was Lord Lanark who spoke up rather than Emily. There was a flash of anger in his eyes, something that Joseph appreciated. It told him he was not the only one becoming irritated with Lady Abernyte’s remarks. “I do think it a foolish endeavour to begin to blame someone without certainty. Do you not, Lady Abernyte?”
Her lips flattened and she turned away without answering the question. Joseph scowled as he watched her walk away, thinking to himself that she was not someone he wanted to keep in company!
“I wonder if it was Lady Florence.” Emily let out a small sigh as Joseph frowned at her. “In many ways it would not surprise me, for she does have something of a reputation. It would not be unreasonable to suspect her.”
In an instant, Joseph's perspective changed. If Lady Florence had been responsible, then no doubt she would be in a great state of upset. He did not care about the cake any longer. He did not care about what thetonwould think of him. All he wanted to do was find Lady Florence and assure her that all was well.
“Do excuse me.”
Emily set one hand on his arm. “Wherever are you going? You will have to announce the dancing again soon. The floor is almost cleared.”
Joseph looked around the ballroom. He took in the gently twinkling flames of the candelabras, his gaze roving over the holly and the ivy that twisted itself around the room. There were ribbons and a roaring fire, sweet, spiced punch for every guests and a feast soon to come. Everything he had done, he had done well and yet, now, none of that seemed to matter.
